#altonsterling
I can only infer you
speak of my skin
this beautiful brown
this lovely melanin?
Yes. Father’s no more,
now long gone, but before
he departed he worked
himself to the bone
straying not a day
from home.
As for my colour
you must be blind
the contorted
black darkness
you perceive
has never been mine.
Why is this hue such
an affront to you?
policemen, judge, jury
school-teachers too?
Now it is said
we’re real-good actors;
for we play many a part,
but you pay no mind
to such sentiment nor
proverbial heart-to-heart.
No sah!
Mistake not my
composure for failed
advance, blink once
*& I’ll lick you down
given half the chance!*
But then you, your ilk
and your briers sown
would just rise again
with sated verbal abuse
& agenda obtuse.
Lawd O’ Mercy
I want off this
deadly semantic
merry-go-round.
Go home!! N * * * * r!!!
Seething; they scream!
...there goes another
coloured criminal
KILLED
for being created
a shade of Eden's
dust of the ground.
Divine-rich-bloodied
melanite brown.
So, when you insult me
I can only infer,
you
speak of my skin;
this beautiful brown,
this lovely melanin.
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 4:21 AM UTC
True warmth runs deep,
in the web of your reds and your blues,
wrapping and running over every inch of you.
Ninety eight and a fraction of degrees
seeping hot through the intricate map of your bones and tissue.
Every inch bounded in webs and ebbs
of flowing colors,
an endless river to forever be submerged.
How strange is it that the heart resides in a cage?
Protected, beating, behind marrow bars.
Cells in its cell,
fighting and beating in protest to your gentle decay.
Such a display resides within us all,
all blood a testament to the sameness of us.
And if I've captivated you for a moment,
might I ask how different are we?
How my blood runs different than yours?
Though our bodies tell different stories,
the blood is no different.
When you slay them where they stand,
the blood that flows and the tears that fall have no title or rank.
We all bleed the same.
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 12:42 PM UTC
My Country Tis of Thee,
Sweet land of liberty-
Or so we sing.
Land where my fathers died-
But my forefathers died in a battle
Trying to keep their slaves;
My fathers killed your fathers
For trying to run away;
My fathers **** your fathers
Cause it's late at night, and
He's reaching for his gun-no, wait,
His ID?
Land of the pilgrim's pride-
But so often we leave out of history
How if it weren't for a Native American,
The pilgrims would've died.
From every mountainside-
Like Stone Mountain in Georgia,
Where Rebel Generals are memorialized,
Where the **** was revived-
God, help me, I can't hear freedom's ring;
I can only hear white-washed history.
From every mountainside-
But these days, the mountain is in my chest,
And liberty's ring sounds a lot different,
And a lot of folks don't like it.
Let freedom ring-
And I want to fight for freedom for all-
#BlackLivesMatter-
I want to help-
HANDS UP, DON'T SHOOT!
But-
I
Can't
Breathe.
Let freedom ring!-
But peaceful protests turn into
Bloodbaths as those who have sworn
To serve and protect are sniped down.
Let freedom ring!-
I try to educate myself
On the side of history not taught-
I've always felt that Nat Turner was the bad guy,
But these days I'm questioning it.
I read "The Meaning of Fourth of July for the *****
by Frederick Douglass
And I read "Bury Me in a Free Land"
by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
and I read "Sympathy"
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
and I read "Letters from Birmingham Jail",
"The Mountaintop Speech", and
"I Have a Dream"
by Dr. King.
When I was younger,
I'd research Dr. King & his colleagues
For fun.
I'd wonder, "If I lived in the Civil Rights era,
What would I have done?"
But when I turned seventeen,
I realized, "I live in a Civil Rights era;
What am I going to do?
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
This is a call
A wake up call
As the winds of America’s past time pass over the embers of racial distress
Soon their will be a flame
There was riotting in the 60′s and who is say that today it won’t be the same
The ****** memories of America’s past still brings fear
The fire of racial inequality builds and smoke fills the air
Innocent men getting shot down in the street but who really cares?
As a mother’s heart bursts in sadness as she’s reduced to tears
Hands up,don’t shoot!
They think all we do is ****** and loot
But who am I to refute?
Maybe they know who I am and feel my pain? Or maybe I’m saying #BlacklivesMatter all in vain
All in vein cause this pain runs deep
Everytime I see another mother weep
Another black life lost, who will pay the cost? Who will sanctify the souls? And take burning coals to holes where these bodies lay,
Like the one that holds Freddie grey,
Another black man in Baltimore just trying to survive another day, until his life got taken away,
tell me,what more am I to say ,
Hands up don’t shoot
Or how about I can’t breathe!
Please listen and take heed
Systematic racism is trying to destroy the black man’s seed
And what are we supposed to do? Get down on our knees? Cry and plead?
No, what we must we do is Rise up and lead,
That’s what our communities need
That’s what our communities need because we have black daughters, black sons
Black sons whose light won’t get to shine, won’t get to shine because of the barrel of Massa’s gun
Oh ***** you wise old soul, you put a badge on henchmen and told them to take control
Told them to go on patrol, and shoot to **** the young, the old
And you don’t gotta hide, you got the media on your side,
pumping lie after lie, making mockery of every mother’s cry
And that’s why I, stand here with my fist in the air
Staring right at you, ready to lay my life down with no fear
Because like Malcolm, like Martin I’m just another black man working to free the slaves,
Working tirelessly to break down this crooked system you paved
So with the roar of a lion I shout!
This is not a test, this is a call
A call to the people,
Not just a call but an unprecedented sequel
A call to the world to look at every man as equal
And hopefully this equality can take my people out of poverty
Open up blinded eyes so that our white counterparts can see
And for my young brothers to see that there’s no merit in gold chains with no brains
***** still in charge cause he still holds the reigns
Some of our young men got no sense cause they got no change
No leaders to look up to
No fathers to look up to
Just mothers to run to, and to those mothers I say thank you
But to the black men where are you?
I know ***** separated us from our families
but the return of the black man must come quick
Cause extinction is on the verge, and I don’t wanna go back to stones and sticks
Back to lifting bricks, or selling bricks, or flipping bricks just trying to make it
But I look at the state of my people and I can’t take it
So I can’t fake it, cause I feel it
Within me, deep in my soul
So here I am standing, here I am, bold!
No shackles on me, I am going to stay free
And Create a legacy
where I can sit back and watch
My Children be free
M Wheeler
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 2:34 PM UTC
it happened again
another life taken
****
i
am
so
tired
of
this
i thought
this is
the reality of being black
the least i could do
was bear witness to
that fateful moment
when two men thought
they had the right
to play God
to knock you over
and look down on you
as they pulled the trigger
the racism in their bullets
make wounds that
never heal
in hearts that are
still beating
and i'm so sorry that
the last thing you saw
were hateful eyes
i'm sitting here and
pleading insanity
on behalf of humanity
bullets in black bodies
from the hands of
ignorant and aggressive
white men
who ****** without
repercussion or remorse
the cycle repeats
as the definition states
bullets in black bodies
from the hands of
ignorant and aggressive
white men
who ****** without
repercussion or remorse
what is it going to take
to remedy this pain
please someone assure us
that this time
his life will
not be in vain
we have to change
and stop living in
America: the land of
the insane.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
What is it about me
that stops you from seeing
the good in these bones, in this body,
in this skin so black
that it gives you heart attacks
to the point that you feel the need
to attack our hearts, our chests, our arms,
our backs with your weapons of hate.
"Please","stop", "wait"
are all foreign to you
when uttered by these big lips
on this black face.
Perhaps, that is all you see.
A black face.
But I encourage you,
better yet, I demand you
to expand your vision
and see through this skin,
yes, the one with all the melanin,
the one that you wish you were in,
and gaze upon my soul.
I am told by the likes of you
that my time is limited,
but we see different signs in the sky,
you and I,
for my ancestors tell me
it is time for me to fly.
So, once you unlock these chains,
or even if you refuse
and continue to televise my pain,
one day I will rejuvenate
and I will spread my wings
and I will fly.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 6:19 PM UTC
Land of the free
you seem to call it
But the freedom
only seems to fall
on one end of the spectrum
one side of the scale
And when the scale tries
so excruciatingly
to balance itself
When it comes crashing down
in an attempt to be heard,
to make a sound,
It is met with cries of outrage;
With a selfish victimization of,
“what about us?”
“don’t we matter too?”
but that’s not the point,
now is it?
The scale
isn’t screaming out any less
for the importance of
one side
by trying to give an inch of importance
to the disregarded other.
Black Lives Matter.
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC